


Treading Water

by actual_windy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Human AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 13:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16451153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actual_windy/pseuds/actual_windy
Summary: Blind date Tagora and Galekh. It's human au because I didn't feel like figuring out the troll equivalent to Olive Garden. Includes some illustrations.





	Treading Water

_Did he seriously pick this Chad beefcake?_

That was the first thought in Tagora's head when he spotted his blind date at break-neck speed from across the restaurant. There was also a half-devised thought about how he was surprised this guy found the time for this between cruising on Reddit and scolding young school children.

to: **Pillowfucker**

[ 7:27 ] Are you serious? His chest is so big it's got its own zip code.

  


Tagora sent the text off with a huff but turned his phone on silent as he shoved it into his back pocket. He gracefully weaved through the white table cloths and overwhelmed busboys filling the space of the cozy, warm Authentic Italian atmosphere. His date was checking his watch but there was no need. _I’m punctual, bitch._

 

Subtle finger drumming on the table and a slightly bouncing leg might have been lost on other less detail-oriented individuals but Tagora's brain absorbed it immediately and cached it away into the case file of his headspace as he sat down across from him unannounced. _Glasses, too._ He filed that way, as well.

 

"Okay let's get this over with." Tagora said with a sigh. It looked like this guy hadn't recovered in the .75 seconds Tagora had graciously allowed him, so he continued, "Ground rules: we both pay for our own meals, no appetizers, and no alcoholic drinks. I don’t want to be responsible for some kind of emotional drunken breakdown, and you look like the type."

 

He blinked at Tagora owlishly, but Tagora just picked up his menu and started flipping through. "Oh my God they have baked ravioli though..." He muttered to himself, manicured nails tapping  at his chin. "I love those little bitches. Fuck. Okay. We might have to revise a little..."

The guy snapped out of whatever trance he was in. Finally.

"Excuse me. You-- You're Tagora, I presume?" He asked incredulously.

Tagora looked at him with one of his incredibly trademarked smirks and leaned over the table to look at him.

"My reputation precedes me, naturally."

 

Pause.

Seems he needed a moment to properly digest what to do about... _that_ situation.

"You're not going to ask me if I'm Galekh?"

"No. I know it must be difficult to remember basic instructions but if you recall, Tegiri gave us descriptions of what to expect of one another." With a non-committal wave of his hand, Tagora dropped his eyes back to his menu with disinterest. Galekh at least had the presence of mind to look displeased. "Also, I could smell the desperation wafting off of you the minute I walked in here."

"You realize you are also on a blind date." Galekh pointed out.

"What's your point, Chad?" Same joke twice but, whatever, Galekh didn't hear it the first time and Tagora wasn’t about to devoid the man of his top-notch grade A quality humor _and_ desecrate him mentally.  

There were a number of things Tagora expected after that. The obviously preferable one being that Galekh got up and left the table, failing to compete with the pace of Tagora's lightning wit and sometimes even quicker tongue. The more likely, or rather, what Tagora had anticipated, was more along the lines of continued verbal floundering and the levels of water treading to which only a man who was clearly out of his depth was capable of. Some other options included attempting to provoke some kind of disappointing rat-tat-tat or laughing it off like it was a joke, neither of which Tagora had any interest in.

Instead, the man shook his head a little and picked up his menu, almost entirely ignoring Tagora's reaction. It all felt very akin to a father ignoring a child for having a little outburst. It pissed Tagora off enough for him to take his eyes off the menu and glance back up at this Roman column of a man.

"Baked ravioli it is then." It wasn't a defeated tone. Galekh was looking at the menu actually. Tagora squinted at him.

"Don't assume they're to share." Tagora quipped back. The guy scoffed. _Scoffed!_

He glanced up at Tagora again. "Am I expected to believe you can handle an entire appetizer yourself along with an entree?"

Tagora absolutely looked affronted. "Excuse me?"

"Judging by your size alone, it doesn't seem like something you're capable of." Galekh quirked a brow at him.

"Listen, Glasses, not all of us were nursed on whey protein shakes as a wee babe." Tagora seethed. "Just because I don't prefer to have a moon orbiting my massive bicep because it has its own gravitational force doesn't mean I'm not a perfect ten."

He smiled. He fucking smiled when he delivered the final blow like a fucking madman, "Oh, on that we agree, rest assured." And he looked at Tagora in the eye for a whole second too long before looking back down at the menu like nothing happened.

Tagora's heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. Was he furious? Yes. Flattered? Yes. Turned on? Well, a little, probably. But there was one thing he absolutely was not and that was someone who wasn't going to have the last word.

The menu sunk in his grasp a bit when he used one of his hands to point a jab in Galekh's direction, "You--"

"Are you ready to order?" Came the waiter, standing attentively at the table, armed with a pen and notepad.

Not missing a beat, Galekh replied, "Yes, I'll have the chicken piccata, please. Oh, and an order of baked ravioli." He looked at Tagora with a blinding smile when he said, "For the table." And handed the waiter his menu.

"Yes, of course. And you, sir?" The waiter asked, tucking the menu under his arm and turning to Tagora.

"Um--" His face heating up and fingers trembling a little, he looked down at his menu and the words out of his mouth were the first thing he saw there. "Eggplant parm, thanks."

"You're welcome." The waiter said. "I'll have the baked ravioli right out for you two. Oh, and would you like any wine this evening?"

Tagora shot Galekh a look that said ‘ _don’t you dare_ ’  as the man leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together. "Oh, yes. I think a red would be best judging by our entree choices. Maybe a Cabernet? Wouldn't you agree, Tagora?"

"White. Zinfandel." The words flew out of Tagora's mouth so fast, holding Galekh's gaze as he knowingly ordered a sickeningly sweet dessert wine. "And we would both like one ice cube in each of our glasses. Thank you."

Caught in the crossfires of a hidden battle, the waiter halted for a second, writing down the order, "Oh--" scratched something out, then started writing again. "Okay. Yes. I will get that out for you right away, then." He looked between the two before retreating back into the swinging doors of the kitchen as fast as professionally possible.

"Judas." Tagora spat instantly.

"You're being difficult." Galekh grumbled. "Have I done something that bothers you? If you would enlighten to me what it is I did that made you behave this way, I will remedy the behavior at once." An elaboration: "Within reason."

Tagora sat back in his chair like a child, sinking a bit and crossing his arms across his chest. "I take it back. You're paying for the meal."

Galekh shrugged only a little. "I had intended to."

Tagora only glared at him a little bit longer while he decided how he felt about that particular statement, so Galekh changed tactics. "Look... I believe I know what's on your mind."

A chuckle immediately erupted from Tagora, mumbling, "Well, in that case, welcome to the nightmare zone."

Galekh barreled on regardless of the interruption, "You think you have me sized up. But, by your reaction earlier-- you don't appreciate being judged before being given even a first impression, either. Perhaps you are indeed the personality-sleuth you claim to be. I may or may not be exactly how you suspect me to be." Galekh took a small breath, finally, damn. "But, please, I beg you to at least give me a fair chance.

Tagora didn't even realize he'd said it until after the fact: "Then beg."

And the weird bit was, he didn’t actually _mean_ to. It was a natural reflex. Like, Galekh tapped on a joint on his knee and then Tagora instinctually hurled insults at him. It was by no means Tagora’s fault, for the record, but there was an odd sinking feeling in his stomach. Galekh did not falter when he stared at him but he did have the smallest droop in his shoulders.

Tagora opened his mouth but was saved from the humiliation of-- what? An apology? Did Tagora really think he was going to _apologize_ to this guy?-- By the waiter returning with their wine and some glasses. Tagora was busy staring at the icecube in his glass to notice when Galekh leaned over and tipped his own glass on Tagora’s, depositing his ice cube.

“My treat.” He said, but the only response he got was a roll of the eyes. Sitting up, Tagora leaned on the table, watching Galekh pour the white wine into his glass. He managed to be so smooth about it, too, even though Tagora could feel the bastard’s leg bouncing under the table. His eyes would flicker to Tagora’s occasionally with earnest, but then quickly flit away. Sighing, Tagora did something he’d never done before in his entire sorry existence.

“So, Tegiri says you’re a.. Writer, or something?”

He threw a lifeline.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you diamond for editing this for me! 
> 
> follow me on twitter (@actual_windy) or tumblr (windycarnage)


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